The guys hung out at our place until 11:30 tonight. I didn’t get to eat the dinner I planned. At one point, Michael even said, “Well, I’m going to get to bed, you guys.” And then he did go to bed.
I love it.
They’re eating out of our refrigerator without asking and coming in without knocking, leaving the door wide open behind them, but I’m fine with it. A few of them even complained about some kind of smell in the laundry room and joked that we didn’t have a meal all prepared for them. But we’re cool.
I don’t get annoyed. I don’t need to sleep. I don’t need time to myself or time alone or peace and quiet.
Not everyone could appreciate this lifestyle. Not everyone wants their place raided or to end up as the hang out area every night. Not everyone can stay so social.
But this is why I came here: for these long talks late into the evening, for the jokes that aren’t even funny, for the stories we tell and create in the process. This is why I do this.
